


Properties of Magic

by Kien Rugastelo (cein)



Category: Original Work
Genre: Magical Realism, Nonbinary Character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-28
Updated: 2016-12-28
Packaged: 2018-09-12 22:05:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9092584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cein/pseuds/Kien%20Rugastelo
Summary: When one of the last safe havens for magic-users begin to implement limiting controls, even Trel can see the effects the measures are having on the regular population.





	1. Repat

## Trel

Kreelo was not, in Trel's opinion, a terrible place to live. The weather suited him; his job suited him. Life was stable, which was more than he could say for life in other lands he had visited briefly, but never bothered to stay at for too long. There were other places where the threat of magic had not been so effectively stamped out, where its use brought havoc at best, and unending war at worst. That was why he had left Repalla in the first place: civil war driven by nothing else other than magic.

It was the subject of the newscasts that evening, and Trel tried to hide his interest in the goings-on of his homeland behind a long swig of _yarekt 1_ as he watched from the comfort of a good friend's home. Like most Repah, he was tall and with skin the color of coal. His construction job made him fit, and between that and his heavily accented Kreloi, most of the locals found him intimidating.

Not Efrain. Even though he was smaller with skin like apricots and a personality fitting a grocer who lived with his cat, he'd quickly befriended Trel when he'd moved into an apartment above his store. It had made Trel a little wary at first—why would this meek man seek out friendship with a gruff guy like him—but soon Efrain's steady presence was a welcome respite from the pervasive isolation of the new urban environment. Trel could only figure Efrain thought of him the same way, even if Efrain's cat seemed to be of a different opinion.

The reporter on the screen pressed on about the efforts—or lack thereof—to contain the violence in the Repat capital, and Trel couldn't help but feel irritated at the news. “They still haven't gotten their shit together in Korvi, have they?”

“No,” Efrain conceded beside him, reaching behind to scratch the ear of the dappled brown cat lounging peacefully behind him on the couch, eying Trel as it always did, “But I think it's going to last a long time, either way.”

“What? The fighting?”

Efrain shrugged with the nonchalance of someone completely removed from the situation—from another country's war. “Repalla was one of the last places magic-users could go. They're not going to let that be taken away from them so easily.”

“That's Repalla catching up to everywhere else,” Trel countered, “And they should have done it long ago.” It was high time too, in Trel's opinion. Kreelo and other surrounding states had been passing laws restricting or outright forbidding the use of magic for years now, even standardizing the use of magic-resistant building materials to force compliance in the home. The resulting overall peace was reward enough, if anyone asked Trel.

Efrain only took a sip of his _yarekt_. “They have to go somewhere, Trel. I'd rather have them out in the open than gathering forces underground.” Efrain ignored the tail that thumped agitatedly behind him and reached back to attend the cat again. “Besides, they're people too, aren't they?”

“They're criminals is what they are,” Trel muttered, barely paying attention as the 'cast took on a different subject.

Efrain's cat left. Efrain did not comment.

* * *

It wasn't until the next day as it was nearing time for Trel to go to work that he realized he had left his wallet at Efrain's the night before. After a quick text where Efrain told him he was at work himself, but that Trel should drop by the apartment anyway, it's fine, Trel was stomping down the steps to the second-story flat.

<<And just how do you think I'm going to be able to get in?>>

<<You'll be fine.>>

Trel huffed at that as he reached for the knob. “Fine my ass—” The door swung open easily, and Trel spotted his wallet on the counter immediately.

And between himself and the counter was Efrain's cat, staring him down.

“Shoo,” Trel tried, not trusting the thing even though it had never lashed out at him, never even behaved with open aggression towards him. He didn't want to take his chances with Efrain gone. The cat did not look impressed. “Look, I'm just here for my wallet. Let me pass.”

The cat continued to watch him haughtily for a few moments, as if it were trying to inform Trel that whatever it did, it did because it wanted to do so, but then it stood and meandered over to the other side of the room, giving Trel the straight shot he needed.

“Thanks,” Trel begrudged as he made an effort not to rush as if he thought the cat may cut off his escape and _why was he so damn intimidated by a cat_. Once safely outside, Trel shut the door securely.

<<You really shouldn't leave your door unlocked.>>

<<I've got smart locks. I can open the door remotely.>>

Trel tested the door, and it was indeed locked. It seemed like a bit of wasted expense to him, but that was Efrain's life, not his.

<<You left your TV on by the way.>>

<<My cat likes to watch it when I'm gone.>>

Trel did not dignify that idea by responding to it, and so he was left to wonder how Efrain knew to lock the door back up when he did.

* * *

“The situation in Korvi has finally been resolved by the Evet government in the form of martial law. About 9:00 AM local time, the Repat military began to sweep the city, searching for any sign of seditious elements. Reports say that many magic-users have already been expelled from the city and checkpoints are being used to weed out the remaining terrorists.”

Trel had stopped working to watch that particular part of the cast. Many people did, to various degrees, but Trel thought that, at least in this particular group, he was the one most pleased by this turn in events. Perhaps Evet Chula would be good for his people after all.

“In related news, an ordinance has been passed in Kreelo calling for the retroactive switch to magic-resistant elements in dwellings….”

* * *

The text from Efrain later on was unexpected. <<They're exiling the magic-users from Repalla.>>

<<Good riddance.>>

<<Where do you suppose they'll go?>>

Trel didn't even have to think of his response. <<Nowhere.>>

* * *

Trel passed Efrain on the stairs of the apartments, and they both tacitly agreed to acknowledge each other with the briefest of _hellos_ until what Trel saw in Efrain's bag gave him pause. “Aren't you allergic to pomegranates?”

Efrain reversed back the half-step he had taken into his apartment. “My cat likes them.”

That didn't follow. “Don't cats eat meat?” Trel tried, thinking he might talk some sense into him.

Efrain's cat peered out from around the door. Efrain smiled, air-headed and assuring. “Cats do.”

Efrain was inside before Trel had the opportunity to pursue the question further.

* * *

Sometimes, Trel could see Efrain's cat watching through the window from where he passed below on the street. It would observe the cycle of daily life on the lane as if surveying its domain, secure in its knowledge that it ruled everything that passed below its gaze.

Lately, Trel thought he could see an irritated thump to its tail as the world continued on below.

Trel continued to give the beast a wide berth.

* * *

The casts were droning on about the skirmishes in the Siva mountains that followed the expulsion of the magic-users, now self-identifying as Ayai. Trel was sipping at his _yarekt_ , wondering if Repalla was going to be rent in two from the war. Efrain was reading his mail, scratching his cat affectionately beneath the chin. The cat was staring, now staring, always staring.

“You always just call it your cat,” Trel pointed out.

“It is my cat,” Efrain countered distractedly, going over the same community notice Trel had received.

Trel thought Efrain was being a little obtuse. “Haven't you given it a name?”

“Why?” If Trel didn't know better, he would think from the angle Efrain was holding the letter that he was letting the cat read over his shoulder, but Efrain should know there was no reason to do such a thing and the cat never so much as glanced that way anyway.

Trel distracted himself from that particular thought by giving in to the temptation of irritation. “What do you mean why?”

Efrain shrugged, putting the letter away. “Well I only have one.” That made sense enough to Trel, and he was going to let it end there—let the matter drop as another one of Efrain's idiosyncrasies. “Besides, it hasn't chosen its name yet.”

* * *

There were old legends about the Ayai and the Repah. Trel could remember fantastical stories of the magic of the Ayai and the loyalty of the Repah as they fought their way through adventures as allies. They would speak of the Ayai as teachers and helpers, of the Repah as protectors and fighters, of friendships built on trust and respect.

Other tales were told as well, covering the range of Ayai treachery in the heat of battle, of magic used to trick and deceive both for mirth and for ill, of an attempted conquering by sorcerers, only to be beat back in the end by the Repah who were true of heart.

The history books do note the existence of the Ayai people from a time before many records were lost. Scholars theorized that they may have had a higher occurrence of magic than many of the other local tribes, and that many of the stories may have had at least some basis in fact. History taught that their lands were conquered, their people subjugated, and their lines spread thin and mixed with other races.

Trel's own family history claimed a strong Repah heritage, and it was a source of pride that he would forever be separated from the stain of sneaky Ayai filth.

* * *

The renovations next door made the air dense with dust and Trel woke with a voice that felt thick, and grateful for it even so. If work was already occurring so close, then his home would surely be next, and he could get on with life, secure in the knowledge that the only magical beings that would continue to try to exist here would not last much longer.

1Yarekt – A light alcohol similar to cider


	2. Krelora

## Efrain

Efrain watched the activity outside with only a hint of interest: boxes going in, the occasional bag of trash coming out. The cat on the arm of his couch paid the comings and goings with much more mind. It would, Efrain thought as he rearranged himself into a more comfortable position, tucking his feet under his skirt as his attention drifted back to the book in his lap.

Idly, he ran one hand along his cat's spine, just once. “What do you know, our new neighbor's Repat.” The cat's tail twitched, possibly at Efrain breaking the silence. Efrain could not be sure. There was the slam of a car door and Efrain peeked outside. Not a moving van, no one helping him move, just an old beat-up truck with a covered bed. “I think he'll be lonely. What do you think?”

The cat turned to fix its stare on Efrain, tail now thumping in projected irritation. Efrain did not mind.

“I'll talk to him tomorrow.”

The cat did not seem to approve.

* * *

Efrain did talk to him the next day after satisfying his vanity: eyebrows in good order, blemishes skillfully covered, clothes typically masculine. It was brief, but promising, and Efrain returned home with a grin on his face. “I was right,” he announced without preamble to the cat waiting for him on the counter. “His name is Trel.”

The cat did not seem interested, but Efrain did not take offense as he fixed himself a glass of juice.

“I would appreciate it if you would behave when he comes over, but I know you'll just do what you want.” It was a gentle tease, one that got green eyes fixed in his direction. Efrain did nothing to hide his amusement. “Just trust me.”

The cat left the counter then, and Efrain, with nothing else left to say, fixed dinner.

* * *

The situation in Repalla seemed to be the main feature of the casts for many months now. They painted a picture of a people torn, of a threat realized, of a country falling apart. Even before Efrain started inviting Trel over to watch them with him—to get his readings on what was really going on behind the words even if they did not have the same sentiments—Efrain was already slotting the pieces together himself. _Look at what is happening to our neighbors_ , they said. _We could be next._

And so they prattled on, speaking of the deeds of magic-users and the troubles their continued existence brought the Repat, and what the Repat were doing to fight back. It sounded like paranoia and had the feel of propaganda, all the while remaining silent on a very specific front.

Efrain wondered when the Kreelo casts would start talking about what was happening in Kreelo.

* * *

<<I forgot my wallet at your place.>>

Unfortunate, Efrain thought as he regarded the text. This wasn't a situation he'd thought he'd run into with Trel, and something he'd rather avoid. It wasn't as though Efrain had any issues with Trel—in fact, the trust he had in the man already was more alarming than anything else—but his cat was a different story.

In the end, Efrain just hoped it would behave. <<I'm at work but if you want to drop by my place, that'd be fine.>>

<<And just how do you think I'm going to be able to get in?>>

Efrain sighed to himself, mentally instructing his cat to cooperate with Trel just this once. <<You'll be fine.>>

And it was fine. Trel got his wallet and didn't once mention his cat, so Efrain could only assume everything went alright.

The next text was unexpected. <<You left your TV on by the way.>>

Efrain shook his head slowly. Of course it was on. <<My cat likes to watch it when I'm gone.>>

* * *

Efrain loved his job—not because it was easy (it was), and not because he saved a lot of money on groceries (he did), but because it gave him a chance to interact with many people each day. He felt he got a better feel for Kreelo as a whole just by seeing and speaking with the general public as they went through the mundane tasks of securing food for themselves.

Small-talk was a national pastime here, and so Efrain would quickly be able to pick up on the details. Itoka's relationship wasn't doing well, Istav was moving soon, Tikla got a new job, but also: the new CCTV on the corner where there was none before, paperwork signaling the start of an inquiry at the county office, rumors of new measures to soon be passed down from the state.

Efrain, as always, was a wonderful listener.

* * *

“Reya had a rash on her hand today,” Efrain remarked conversationally as he stirred the pot on the stove. “She says her apartment put that new anti-magic paint on the walls recently. I wonder if that was it. It's pretty new; I can't imagine they've had a lot of time to test it. What do you think?”

Efrain's cat had nothing to say.

The next time Efrain saw Reya, she did not have much to say, either.

* * *

Sometimes, Efrain learned things he wasn't sure he wanted to know.

<<They're exiling the magic-users from Repalla.>>

<<Good riddance.>>

Efrain frowned. Trel needed to grow a heart sometime. <<Where do you suppose they'll go?>>

Trel's response made Efrain's heart go cold, and so the next time they ran into each other, Efrain did not bother to explain that it was going to rain out, and so of course he had pomegranates. Trel wasn't Krelora, and would have no idea what that meant, anyway.

* * *

Efrain loved his job because it gave him a chance to interact with many people each day. Lately, though, it seemed everyone was too tired to reciprocate.

* * *

The notice came in, just as Efrain had expected it to. The outer walls of the building would be painted by the end of the week, the inner common walls in two, and the door-jambs replaced by the end of the month.

 _Do you see this_ , he wanted to ask his cat, but he felt Trel may have found it odd. (Efrain was already odd enough without that bit of help.) Do you think this is how it happened with Reya? Do you think we'll be like them?

Maybe not, he considered. Trel worked with those kinds of materials every day and didn't seem so affected. However, the fact that Trel worked with different materials was not lost on Efrain, and maybe that was where the difference was: paint and wood, versus stone and brick. It was possible that the differences ran even deeper than that.

And as Efrain halfheartedly answered Trel's questions about his cat, he wondered just where everyone was getting their state-mandated paint and wood.

* * *

Efrain woke coughing, the air full of dust that made his lungs burn and eyes water. In the time it took to get his breathing under control, he found his cat curled at his side—something it had never done before.

Quickly, Efrain rose to close the window, and where his fingers touched the dust, Efrain found his skin quickly began to itch. “No wonder you're feeling sick,” he croaked out, brushing his hands off before reaching out to pet the cat, who was purring quietly. That fact did not make Efrain feel any more at ease.

Efrain pushed out a shaky breath. “I'll see if I can get some of this stuff cleaned up.”

Efrain did his best, but his cat stayed in that spot until well in the afternoon.

* * *

It felt like one of those shelter-in-place drills Efrain used to participate in in grade school. He had tape lining the edges of the windows, towels shoved beneath the crevices of the doors, blinds pulled, and still the dust crept in. He could hear the workers outside, coating the building with a thin spray of a liquid Efrain would hesitate to call paint. In his mind, the painters seemed more like fumigators.

The sun began to rise as Efrain tended to his skin as he did every other day, dressed in his favorite sundress as a comfort, he noted the faint beginnings of a rash creeping near his elbow and wondered a bit hysterically if this was how it started with Reya. Regardless, he couldn't take much more of this.

Efrain inhaled for a deep sigh, not sure if he was imagining his thoughts clouding over with each breath. “We can't stay here much longer,” he announced.

If his cat heard, it did not have the energy to respond.

When evening came and the air was pregnant with the threat of a summer storm, Efrain made the choice not to buy pomegranates.


	3. Conspiracy

## Trel

Trel thought it was weird that Efrain had invited him over for breakfast, weirder still that his cat was not overseeing the proceedings, but lots of things had been weird lately.

Efrain waited for Trel to have a mouthful of pancake before launching right into conversation. “You know all the renovations that have been going on?” Efrain paused for Trel's nod. “I think there's something wrong with them.”

Trel peeked at Efrain over his coffee. “Wrong how?”

“Well,” Efrain smiled and Trel thought it felt false. “They're giving people hives for one.”

“Shouldn't be,” Trel remarked. “Not unless they've got a lot of magic in them.”

“A lot of people must have magic then,” Efrain's tone hinted at a joke, but Trel didn't think he really meant to tell one. “People are disappearing, too. Have you noticed?”

Trel thought that maybe Efrain was a little paranoid. “People move all the time.”

“Not like this.” Efrain seemed to debate his next point over in his head. “And the ones that do stay—they've been kinda quiet, haven't they? It's not normal.”

Trel sighed and put his fork down, trying to be a calming presence. “You think there's something wrong with the paint?”

“It might be the paint,” Efrain allowed. “They're doing something to the doors, too.”

Trel's shrug was flippant. “Well I can't test the doors, but if you can bring me some of the paint, I'll do some tests on it at work. Make sure everything's kosher.” Efrain reacted after a beat by reaching down and passing Trel the grocery bag that had sat by the table leg, with a quiet _here_. Inside was a bit of wall, with the now-familiar gloss of a layer of fresh paint. Trel tried not to shake his head. “I'm not going to ask how you got this, but I'll let you know what I find out, okay?”

For the first time all morning, Efrain seemed to incrementally relax. “Okay.”

* * *

Trel frowned at the readout on the screen, recognizing some things, trying to look up the purpose of others on his phone. He thought he saw other ingredients pop up on the screen only to instantly vanish, but maybe that was Efrain's paranoia affecting him.

Whatever was on the wall, it wasn't paint.

He wouldn't tell Efrain yet, not until he knew what it was.

* * *

02:18 had Trel waking, though he did not know why. The distant rumble of thunder put the monsoon as the most immediate suspect, but with his fan still running, he doubted it even in the fog of sleep. This neighborhood seemed to lose power every time it rained, and the storm did not seem close enough to disturb him.

Writing it off as a fluke, he turned over to return to sleep, and his phone chimed the arrival of a new text. Blearily, he unlocked the screen after a try or two and squinted at the series of messages.

<<Are you still up>>

<<I need your help>>

<<I cant do tthis alone>>

Trel couldn't remember Efrain asking him to anything but bring some drinks by when he visited, and he was starting to type a reply when another text came through.

<<Please>>

That gave Trel pause as some superstition on favors asked in the dead of night burned in the back of his mind, but the thought wasn't allowed to form completely before it was interrupted by a quick knock at his door.

A clap of thunder sounded loud enough to register in Trel's ears. The storm grew closer. The knocking came again, and Trel thought it sounded frantic. Not taking any chances, Trel grabbed his gun from the nightstand drawer and thumbed the safety off.

He approached the door slowly, keeping the nozzle pointed down and his finger parallel to the trigger. His phone chimed again; he paid it no mind. “Who's there?” Trel called, voice low so as to not disturb the neighbors, wishing for a peephole.

“Trel, it's me!”

Trel released a breath slowly through his nose and the familiar voice. Of course it was Efrain. Feeling a little foolish, Trel unlatched the lock and swung the door open, using his body to keep the gun from view. He frowned; Efrain was not alone. Trel took another step back. “Get inside.”

Efrain scurried in with the hooded person hurrying in behind, and Trel busied himself securing the door and reengaging the safety on his gun. When he turned back around, the third person had pulled the hood back to reveal a woman—tan with hair the color of the bark of pine trees. She had a rash creeping up the side of her face, and patchy along the other bits of skin Trel could see. She wasn't the only one, Trel noted as he caught sight of the back of Efrain's hand.

“Thanks, Trel. I—”

“Stop.” Efrain's mouth snapped closed and Trel reached over to grab a brick he'd set on the door-side table. “Touch this.”

Efrain shook his head incredulously. “What?”

“Touch this or go.” Efrain hesitated at Trel's ultimatum, but reached out and grabbed the brick with one hand. He didn't flinch away, and Trel was satisfied enough. He address the woman. “You, too.”

She didn't move, and Efrain put a hand on her shoulder. “Go on, Farrah.” Her eyebrows pushed together in concern, but she didn't object and after a long moment, she placed her hand on the brick, looking Trel straight in the eye.

It was enough for Trel and he put both the magic-resistant brick he had knicked from work and his gun back on the table, keeping his eyes firmly on the newcomer. “Why are you here?”

“Efrain, tell him.” The deep voice and bob of an adam's apple alerted Trel to the fact that he may have been assuming much about Farrah from the get-go, and he took in the broad shoulders, the narrow hips, and the suggestion of breasts that may have only been the cut of the clothes. Not a woman at all, perhaps.

Efrain sighed, and Trel thought that maybe he was stalling. “Did you ever find out about that paint?”

Trel stole another glance at Efrain's hand, remembering what he'd said about hives. “The paint is using the same ingredients we use in our bricks, but there are some other elements mixed in. I'm working on them.”

Efrain did not seem to be soothed by the confirmation. “So not quite paint?”

“Not quite, no,” Trel admitted.

That seemed to mollify Efrain in some way, and he continued haltingly. “Farrah's learned some things.” Trel glanced over at Farrah, who gave no reaction to Efrain's ominous words. “We need to leave town. I can explain along the way.”

Trel didn't follow his logic immediately. “So why do you need me?”

“You're an expert in the field.”

“You said Farrah knows about it, too.” Trel inwardly cursed himself for nearly admitting that he was having doubts about the renovations as well. It didn't matter; he could continue his work quietly if he stayed here. “So why do you need me?”

Efrain grinned sheepishly as if he was expecting to get caught. “You have a car.”

Trel threw his hands in the air. “So I'm a taxi!”

“You're a friend,” Efrain countered. “I can trust you, and I don't want what's happening to everyone else to happen to you. I can rent a car; I can't risk you, Trel.”

Trel felt his temper cool to a simmer as he turned Efrain's words over in his head. Something about them itched in a way that reminded him of the taste of foil near his dental fillings. “Dammit,” he muttered, running a hand down his face. “I take it you've already packed.”

“Of course.”

This was crazy. This whole thing was absolutely crazy. “Are you sure you're really in trouble?”

“We are,” Efrain confirmed.

Trel believed him, gods help him. “And now that I know about it, I'm involved, aren't I?”

It was Farrah's voice that supplied the answer. “Yes.”

He'd thought as much. There was nothing for it then, Trel decided with a sigh. “Give me 10 minutes.”

* * *

Trel pulled open the back window and lowered the gate on his truck before tossing his bag in the back. The back alley he'd parked it in was still slick with rain, some of it pooling on top of the white truck. Efrain spoke up nearer to the front, noticing there were only two seats. “How are we going to do this?”

“Someone's got to ride in the back,” Trel supplied and Farrah immediately took the role, climbing up onto the gate and removing xer shoes before settling on the mattress. Trel didn't comment. “Do we need to get your cat?”

“Already taken care of,” Efrain said, glancing upwards with a bit of anxiety. “We should get moving.”

Trel followed his gaze and noticed there was no cat in the window. The lights were on in Efrain's apartment, and Trel was under no illusions that Efrain had forgotten to turn them off. A shadow passed behind the curtain. Trel closed up in the back wordlessly and joined Efrain in the cab, opening the partition and pulling out onto the street before he spoke again. “Do you have anywhere in particular in mind?”

“We need to get some supplies first,” Farrah said from the back, apparently taking over the role of explaining now that Trel was committed. “Then we head east.”

“East?” Trel parroted.

Farrah nodded. “I have friends there that can help.”

“How far east?” Trel asked, trying to keep the suspicious tone from his voice.

“Far,” Farrah said with a shrug, and Trel's fingers tightened on the wheel in irritation.

“It's okay, Farrah,” Efrain said. “We can trust Trel.”

The look Farrah gave him was a bit dubious, but it quickly passed. “They're spreading the suppressant all over Kreelo. We can't trust anyone here anymore.”

Trel wasn't sure if Farrah was referring to Trel or the paint, but he wasn't quite sure he trusted Farrah either. “So we're leaving Kreelo,” Trel asked, less a question than a conclusion.

“We're leaving Kreelo,” Farrah confirmed.

“Great,” Trel muttered. This was getting better and better, and Trel did not relish the long drive ahead. “Can you both drive?”

“We can,” Farrah said while Efrain only nodded.

At least something was going Trel's way. “We'll take shifts, then. Whoever's in the back needs to sleep.”

Farrah frowned, and Trel did not know why. “After supplies.”

It was a strange condition, but not one Trel was ready to debate. Not eager to start a fight among them so soon, he agreed. “After supplies.”


	4. Suppressant

## Farrah

Farrah was a little impressed when Trel stopped at a store on the western edge of town and told them to withdraw as much cash as they could, and to ditch their phones. It was helpful to have someone on board who may have had to run like this before, and Farrah thought perhaps Trel had. If nothing else, his instincts were sound.

Farrah removed the battery from xer phone and left it in xer purse.

They had food, they had water, they had gas, and they had the dozens of little things that would be helpful along the way, and when they regrouped by the truck, Farrah reached the passenger door before Efrain got there. “You should take the first sleep,” xe told him. “I know you haven't been sleeping and we'll need you rested.”

Efrain, for his part, did not object. Trel didn't comment.

When they had settled in for the long drive and Efrain had made himself comfortable in the back, Farrah shut the partition to grant some measure of privacy to both sides. “You have questions.”

Of course Trel had questions. “Who are you?”

Farrah decided Trel was not very good at asking questions. “I'm Farrah.”

The way Trel breathed out sharply made Farrah think that Trel's opinion was that xe wasn't very good at answering questions. “Who's after you?”

“A lot of people are after me,” Farrah said honestly, before realizing that such a statement would not do much to put Trel at ease. “The people back there were probably KMB1.”

“Of course they were.” Farrah wondered if Trel was aware of his mumbling problem. “Why are they after you?”

Farrah wasn't sure this was a conversation xe wanted to have while they were still in city limits. “Because I know about the suppressant.”

“You mean the paint?”

Farrah smiled, if only to make it seem like this was a normal conversation. “Did it look like paint to you?”

“No,” Trel admitted. Farrah felt a little more proud of him already for being able to admit that to himself when he worked with similar materials every day. “What is it suppressing?”

“People,” Farrah responded, used to speaking about this sort of thing in different circles. Trel, xe realized belatedly, was not quite up to speed. “It's making people quiet, complacent.”

“Why?” It was a fair and obvious question.

“I don't know yet,” was xer fair and obvious answer.

Trel seemed to mull that over for a moment, but Farrah did not miss the frustrated tick of his jaw. “How do you know all this?”

That was definitely not something xe wanted to discuss within city limits. “I have my ways.”

“That's not an answer,” Trel seemed to growl. Farrah wondered if he knew he growled.

“That's all I can tell you for now,” Farrah said with a shrug. “It's safer that way.”

“Safer for you or for me?” Farrah could only smile at that. Efrain was right, Trel was a bit clever. Seeming to know he wasn't going to get an answer, Trel tried again after glancing Farrah's way. “I'm not trying to be rude, but are you a man or a woman?”

Farrah did not have to think over xer answer. “No.”

“No?” The disbelieving face Trel made told Farrah he didn't get it.

That was alright. “No.”

Trel groaned and ran a hand over his face before turning the radio up just a bit—an end to their stilted conversation for now.

That was alright.

* * *

They stopped a couple hours later as the sun began to peak over the horizon to stretch their legs and to take care of personal needs. (Trel was not nosy enough to see if Farrah squatted or stood.) The drive to that point had been in almost silence, punctuated with brief check-ins to make sure each other stayed awake and Farrah's instructions on which direction to take at each junction. Farrah could live with that.

Traffic was sparse, just as it should be at that time of day, and Farrah joined Trel in leaning up against the truck, where Trel was sipping idly at some water. That wouldn't do.

“Here, you need to keep your strength up,” xe said, passing a nutrition bar in his direction. Farrah did not pretend not to notice when Trel inspected the wrapper before opening it. “You really don't trust me, do you Trel?”

Trel swallowed the first bite with irritation ticking across his face. “Should I?”

Farrah tried for a reasonable approach, keeping xer hands behind xer back. “Why would I poison the driver?”

Trel didn't take the bait. “I thought I shouldn't trust anyone in Kreelo.”

Farrah thought that was a bit funny, hearing xer words come back that way. Even if Trel didn't trust xem, he was paying attention. Xe rocked up onto the balls of xer feet with a bounce. “You trust Efrain.”

“I _know_ Efrain.”

“So you do,” Farrah agreed. “And Efrain told me to trust you, so I will. I hope you will give me the same courtesy.”

Trel looked almost offended at the prospect. “We should keep moving,” he grumbled as he shoved off the side of the truck.

Farrah was not so quick to follow. “So we should.”

* * *

It wasn't that Farrah took delight in irritating Trel, it was that it was so easy to do, and the drive was very boring.

“So you're Repat?”

“I am.”

“Why are you living in Kreelo, then?”

“I just am.”

“Did you run away here, too?”

Okay, maybe xe did take some delight in it.

Trel's silence persisted beyond any further questions Farrah thought to ask.

* * *

If Trel had thought to ask, Farrah would have told him that xe was Repat, too, and that leaving Repalla for somewhere a little less dangerous was not as uncommon as he had been lead to think. Xe would tell him that a lot of Repat their age didn't trust, and had escaped something before, and were on edge with what was going on around them.

Trel did not ask, though, so Farrah didn't share.

That was their shared culture, xe thought, secrets and silence. Or maybe it was a trauma, a coping mechanism. Privacy brought safety, and safety brought survival.

It wasn't healthy; it was a terrible life. Worst of all, it wasn't certain at all to work. Farrah thought xe would tell Trel all of this, too, though not while they were still in Kreelo. That was a bit of knowledge for somewhere else, somewhere they could let their guard down a little more.

They had another place to be, and that was where Trel had to trust xem, even if he didn't want to—simply because there was no other way to be there.

He'd learn, Farrah decided. Until then, xe would be patient, and actively try to trust.

That was what Efrain wanted, anyway, and xe owed Efrain more than Trel could know.

* * *

When it came time to switch, and Farrah was in the back with Efrain behind the wheel, Farrah did not miss the beginnings of what could have been an argument as xe settled in.

“I don't trust her.”

“Not a her.”

“I don't trust him.”

“Not a him.”

“I don't trust _Farrah_.”

Farrah smiled to xemself as xe pulled a blanket up to xer chin and settled down for a bit of rest.

“You should try.”

## Trel

Trel fought the urge to slam the passenger door, only because he knew it wouldn't do any good. He kept a close eye as Efrain put the truck into gear and joined the rest of traffic smoothly. Satisfied that Efrain did indeed know how to drive, Trel spoke up. “I don't trust her.”

“Not a her,” Efrain countered unhelpfully.

Trel accepted the correction and tried again. “I don't trust him.”

“Not a him.”

Trel thought Efrain was being deliberately frustrating, and wished they could have this conversation in Repati so that they could avoid the pronoun issue altogether. “I don't trust _Farrah_.”

Efrain shook his head slowly as if he thought Trel was being difficult. “You should try.”

Trel wasn't really in the mood. “Why?” he snapped.

Efrain looked torn at that, and for a moment, Trel thought he wasn't going to respond at all. “Farrah was involved in developing the suppressant, a long time ago.”

Trel blanched at the confession. “And you want me to trust—” Trel searched for a pronoun he hadn't tried yet “—them?”

Efrain smiled and Trel thought he might have been laughing at him. “Farrah wasn't exactly a willing participant.” Trel wanted to ask what Efrain meant by that, but Efrain pushed on. “Besides, we're going to Farrah's people, not the other way around. And they're the reason why I'm not in jail right now. You've got more reason to trust than to not, if you think about it.”

It did make some sense, Trel decided, but Efrain wasn't exactly being forthcoming. “Why do you trust Farrah?”

Efrain shrugged. “I've known xem for a while.” Trel wasn't familiar with that pronoun, even after the few years he'd lived in Kreelo. Efrain sighed, glancing Trel's way briefly. “Look, you saw that whatever's in the paint affected Farrah the most. It's forcing xem from xer home. Can you at least believe xe wants to put an end to this as much as I do?”

Trel had to admit it made sense. “I can.”

“Good!” Efrain brightened immediately. “Once you get to know each other, I think you'll realize you're more alike than you think.”

Trel doubted that. “How do you know Farrah, anyway?”

If Efrain hesitated, Trel was prepared to believe it was because he was checking his mirrors and not his speech. “Xe's been living around the neighborhood for a while, so I was running into xem every day. We just sort of chatted, and then the paint thing started, y'know?”

“So you're friends,” Trel relaxed a little at the idea.

“You could say that.”

Trel wasn't sure he wanted to know what else anyone could say.

1KMB – Kreelo Magic Bureau


	5. Drive

## Efrain

“So, when you said you could drive?” Efrain prompted as Farrah climbed into the driver's seat with only the briefest of hesitations.

“I can,” Farrah asserted calmly, pushing the seat back a couple clicks. “It's just been a while.”

Efrain refused to let that make him nervous. “How long a while?”

Farrah's sidelong glance and raised eyebrows told Efrain xe thought he was being ridiculous. “A while,” xe repeated.

Efrain sighed and sank back into the seat, quietly bracing himself for impact at Farrah's movements and xe hadn't even turned the truck back on yet. If Farrah was irritated by that, xe didn't let it show. To Efrain's relief, the engine roared to life and Farrah pulled into traffic with only a minimum amount of jerkiness. Efrain thought maybe it would be smooth sailing after all until Farrah elected to speak again.

“I've just never driven on a public road before, that's all.”

Efrain wondered if Farrah could see the blood draining from his face. The smirk on xer face told him xe could, and Efrain exhaled slowly. If Farrah felt confident enough to joke, they'd be fine. “The compound?” Efrain asked, if only to keep his mind of the road.

Farrah answered with a nod. “So like I said,” Farrah rejoined the highway and their lives did not end in a fiery crash, “A while.”

* * *

They had been on the road for a while, chatting aimlessly and easily now that Farrah had gotten a hang of existing with other traffic. Xe wasn't a bad driver at all, Efrain realized, just inexperienced. And once going was smooth and Efrain was sure Trel had to be asleep, he broached a less meaningless subject: “That stone at Trel's was one of those anti-magic things, wasn't it.”

Efrain didn't need confirmation—not really. Farrah provided one anyway, sobering just as quickly as Efrain had: “It was.”

Of course it was, Efrain thought with a touch of bitterness. Trel hated magic; it made sense that he would have something like that at his place when he worked with that material. He mulled over his next words, not knowing how much Farrah wanted to risk Trel overhearing if he wasn't really asleep yet. “Then how did you…?”

Farrah didn't even glance away from the road. “Trel's null.”

That caught Efrain completely off guard and for a moment, he could only repeat back what he'd heard. “Null?” Farrah nodded xer confirmation. “That's—wow, that's really rare, isn't it? Are you sure?” Even as the words left his mouth, Efrain thought better of them. Of course Farrah was sure.

“He could touch it, too.” For a moment, it seemed Farrah was going to leave him with one of xer normal oblique answers, but it seemed xe caught xemself. “The only way he could handle it like that is if he were null. Otherwise, it would have started to burn him, too.”

It made enough sense to Efrain, and he pressed on as something new occurred to him. If Trel really did not have even a hint of magic in his lineage, then that changed everything. “If he's null, will he even be able to go with us?”

Farrah's concentration faltered for just a moment and Efrain wondered if xe had expected him to realize Trel's status may have been a problem. “I'm not sure.”

Efrain was—quite frankly—flabbergasted at the admission. “He probably saved both our lives, and you don't even know if you're going to have to leave him out in the middle of the desert? Farrah, if we leave him out there, he'll die.”

That accusation made Farrah finally glance away from the road incredulously. “My phone's back there. It will stay with him.”

“Oh, great—!” Efrain caught himself raising his voice and brought it back down to a furious whisper. “Wanted for aiding and abetting, wandering the desert alone armed only with a cell phone. That's great, Farrah, really—a spectacular plan! A great example of equivalent exchange.”

“It _is_ equivalent,” Farrah insisted, hissing out the words. “We use his truck, he uses the phone. It's a borrowing of technologies.” The miffed tone of Farrah's voice gave Efrain enough pause to allow xem to push on. “We'll leave him the phone, yes. And the truck, and the supplies.” Efrain was about to ask what xe meant, but Farrah cut him off. “I know most of it won't cross over, and that's fine. We won't need them, not in the shadow-lands.”

“You—!” Efrain began, before seeing the truth behind the words. “You're really serious. Why did you even want Trel to come if you didn't think he'd be able to make it?”

Farrah huffed out a sharp breath. “Because if he can somehow cross over, he'll be useful.” Some of xer anger drained away and Efrain could see some of the strain xe was under. “I haven't lied to you. We actually do need him, Efrain.”

Seeing Farrah calm made something in Efrain release a bit as well. “But you can't tell me why?”

“No,” Farrah affirmed, “Not yet.”

Efrain hadn't thought xe could. Looking at xem across the cab, Efrain thought Farrah looked more than just a little tired. “How are you holding up? Do you need to rest?”

Farrah perked up a bit. “I'm alright. I've learned to adjust to these things quickly by now.”

That had to have been the understatement of the year. As they rounded a bend, Efrain caught his first glimpse of the desert that stretched beyond the base of the mountain. “How much further do we have to go?”

“Just a few hours.” Efrain accepted that as Farrah-speak for _I don't know_. If he didn't know better, he would have thought Farrah looked a little pensive at the prospect. “I need to get us closer. Alright?”

“Alright.”

* * *

They gassed up the truck at the next city and when they came to the next junction, Farrah finally deviated from a path that would have brought them to the bordering nation of Mistravi, and onto a divided highway that roughly paralleled the Repat border. About an hour later, xe turned off onto a two-lane road and continued on towards Repalla. The sun dipped below the horizon, bathing the desert in a rosy glow, and Efrain knew they had to be getting close.

It wasn't for nearly half an hour that he realized he hadn't seen any other traffic, he had not felt the need to sip at his water, and the fuel indicator had not dipped any lower. It didn't seem to have gotten any darker, either. He called to Farrah to bring attention to these events, but xe stayed steady in xer silence, and so Efrain was content to wait for just a while longer.

It wasn't until the steady murmur of the radio fizzled away into a language of static that Farrah pulled off to the side of the road and killed the engine. Xe took a deep breath, let it out slowly, and seemed all the stronger for the act.

For the first time since they'd gotten back on the road, Farrah spoke, and xer words seemed to fill the cab. “Wake him.”


End file.
